


Hoe don’t do it

by Prim_the_Amazing



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Handcuffs, Illustrated, Public Sex, Sex on a Car, is crack porn a thing bc i think i just wrote it, some violence bc zombies, squabbling over the gun, suddenly sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 21:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16103840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: “Forgive me for my confusion,” he says with all of the dryness he can muster. “It’s just that I can distinctly remember you trying to impale me with one of your knock off louboutins less than an hour ago.”“Can you blame a lady for being on edge after almost being murdered by a bunch of zombies!?”“Uh huh, uh huh, great point. And the drunkenness and public indecency?”





	Hoe don’t do it

**Author's Note:**

> The illustration was done by the awesome [whatevergetsyouoffatnight!](https://whatevergetsyouoffatnight.tumblr.com/) Check their stuff out!

Wash already has a young woman guilty of public indecency and resisting arrest handcuffed in the back of his squad car, and probably drunk and disorderly conduct as well considering the way she reeks of beer, how she almost murdered him by stabbing at his throat with the pointy end of her six inch high heeled shoe, and that she’s _still_ swearing at him, fourty minutes later. But it’s looking like he’s going to have to toss another one back in there before he manages to get back to the station, because the man standing in front of the car in the middle of the road won’t move no matter how much he honks the horn, and keeps swaying. Drunker than even the belligerent woman cussing out his ancestry at that very moment, by the looks of it.

He reaches for his walkie, and informs the station of his location and that he’s going to approach a suspicious individual now.

“Hoe don’t do it!” the woman hollers at him through the plexi glass between them (which is unfortunately riddled with small holes so he has to hear her in case she has a medical emergency or something). “That’s a fucking zombie! I’m telling you! I thought you were one too, I swear!”

“Oh so that’s why you attacked me,” he says. “You thought I was a zombie. Well in _that_ case you’re free to go miss--?”

“Kai,” she says. “And don’t be a dick! I’m trying to save your dumbass cop life.”

“Forgive me for my confusion,” he says with all of the dryness he can muster. “It’s just that I can distinctly remember you trying to impale me with one of your knock off louboutins less than an hour ago.”

“Can you blame a lady for being on edge after almost being murdered by a bunch of zombies!?”

“Uh huh, uh huh, great point. And the drunkenness and public indecency?”

“I’m barely tipsy and I don’t subscribe to your patriarchal ideals, _man._ Free the tities! But also holy shit don’t go out there you’re gonna die!”

Wash goes out there. If she’s barely tipsy then she must be on one hell of an acid trip as well. Honestly, _zombies._ Ridiculous.

“Sir,” he calls out to the man, slowly approaching him, “is there a problem?”

The man groans much like, some would say, a zombie. Wash shakes off the thought.

“Sir,” he says.

The man slowly turns towards him. His eyes are glazed over, his jaw slack, his body held in a strange way that most definitely doesn’t scream sober. He smells overwhelmingly of something he can’t immediately identify, but that makes Wash wrinkle his nose automatically with disgust. It’s not a good smell. He doesn’t want to walk closer to it.

“Are you well?” he asks.

The man groans, and then violently, abruptly lunges for him. Wash has his taser out and ready before the man can even make contact, has it pressed up into his midsection and is turning it on, waiting for him to drop--

The man unexpectedly, against all logic, doesn’t collapse into a twitching shivering lump of pain. Wash barely manages to jerk his face out of the way of his snapping teeth and oh what the fuck he just tried to bite his face off.

Bath salts. It _has_ to be bath salts.

He ups the voltage to the maximum, but the man doesn’t so much as flinch, just snaps eagerly at the air one inch from Wash’s throat and face, keeps pressing closer and closer, sending Wash staggering into and against the car. Oh god, he’s _strong,_ in a way he absolutely shouldn’t be considering his thin half starved frame.

Kai is hollering muffled obscenities from inside the car. If Wash gets murdered, she’s probably next. The back doors only open from the outside, she can’t escape. He can see it clearly, the man breaking into the car and killing her, defenseless and handcuffed and trapped and it’s his fault she’s here, even if she was breaking the law.

He holds of the man as best he can with one hand, taser dropping to the ground, useless, and he fumbles at the door handle with his other hand. She’s cuffed, a civilian, definitely not entirely sober, but at least this way she’ll be able to run away--

He gets the door open and she immediately bursts out, the shock blanket he’d wrapped around her shoulders to cover up her toplessness falling away. She’s only wearing denim short shorts, multiple wrist bangles, and the heels she’d tried to kill him with. The handcuffs are only connected to one of her wrists. She takes one look at him, runs around him and the man rabidly trying to eat him, leans through the open window to the driver's seat and leans back out with the gun Wash had technically been supposed to bring with him but hadn’t.

Randomly, he places the smell the man is exuding. Like those day old corpses he’d walk past during his tour, back when he’d been in the army.

Kai sends the man’s--fine, okay, the _zombie’s_ brains splattering onto the concrete with his gun. The zombie staggers and then collapses, leaving Wash gasping and supporting himself against his car, his ears ringing from the gunshot.

“Jesus,” he says.

“Uhhh no, _Kai,”_ she says, “your actual literal savior and also a total babe. Get your shirt off, it’s covered in zombie brains. That, like, can’t be good.”

He looks down at himself. So he is. And she’s got a point. He takes it off. Kai wolf whistles at him.

“We have to get to the station,” he says, forcefully ignoring it.

“What the fuck!” Kai says. “You’re still gonna arrest me? I just saved your life! You owe me a life debt! A thousand hours worth of eating me out!”

“Not to arrest you, we have to report this! There’s an actual honest to god _zombie outbreak.”_

“And you think the government’s gonna save our asses?” she asks, one eyebrow raised as she cocks one hip. “Do you just, like, not watch TV, dude? The bureaucracy always falls first.”

“Give me my gun back,” he says.

“Nuh uh,” she says.

_“Give me my gun back.”_

“No fucking way,” she says. “I earned it! I headshotted a zombie!”

“I _own it!”_ he shrieks.

“Not anymore you don’t,” she says. “Finders keepers.”

And this is how Wash ends up wrestling with a woman covered in body glitter for his gun, both of them topless. How he loses, he doesn’t know. Actually, yes, he does know. At some point while he was distracted, she managed to get the cuff off of herself and used it to cuff one of his wrists to his car mirror.

“How did you even get out of these!?” he demands, tugging at the cuff.

“I’ve got a lot of experience with cuffs, dude,” Kai says. She’s straddling his hips, still holding the gun, and he’s sprawled out on the hood of his car. It sinks in suddenly how much the power dynamic between them has shifted in the last twenty minutes, and he feels dizzy with it. “Man, this is like the start to the _weirdest_ porno.”

His brain catches on her words, and then he remembers: topless Kai, topless him, cuffed and sprawled out like a debauched porno star getting ready for their photoshoot, Kai coincidentally sitting where his dick is. He can _feel_ himself flushing. Kai grins down at him.

“You look like a stripper cop,” she tells him.

“Shut up,” he says.

“Fuck, this adrenaline shit kinda feels good,” she says. “Kinda really makes me wanna fuck someone, you know?” And then she grinds down suggestively onto his growing boner. He squeezes his eyes shut and swears. “Whattaya say?”

“We’re out in _broad daylight.”_

“It’s the zombie apocalypse! I’m sure everyone’s busy running for the bunkers or nature or ammo stores or what fucking ever.”

“It’s the _zombie apocalypse,”_ he hisses at her.

She leans down and breathes against his lips, “And I’ve got a gun.” His traitorous dick _twitches,_ and she giggles. “I’ll just shoot any that get close, it’s fiiiine. Just a quickie! Come onnnnnnnn--”

“Fine!” he says, because his cock is _aching_ at this point. This woman literally murdered a zombie for him, in front of him, and it was _hot._ “Do it!”

“Hell yeah!” she cheers, and then lifts herself up enough to get his dick out and wriggle out of her shorts. She tosses them casually off to the side onto the ground. She isn’t wearing underwear. Wash’s penis looks strangely absurd to him, just kinda hanging out there in the sunlight where anyone can see it. “Nice dick,” she praises him while wearing the expression of a discerning connoisseur.

“I’ve change my mind,” he says.

“Aww, really?”

He thinks about it for a moment.

“Well. No, not really.”

She grins down at him. “Okay, so clearly we’re gonna need a safeword if you’re gonna be a grumpy bitch during this. How about hewwo?”

“You’re not going to be able to trick me into saying that.”

“God, cops are such buzzkills. Okay, fuck, fine. Pineapple.”

“Acceptable.”

She fist pumps the hand that isn’t holding _his_ gun, and then she wiggles around until she’s lying on her stomach between his legs. Wash cranes his neck to see her properly. The position is turning her cleavage into something truly impressive, she’s got the gun in her left hand resting on his thigh, and her right hand is--judging by the heated look in her eyes--in between her legs. She licks her lips, and he realizes with a start that her face is within blowjob distance of his dick.

“Christ, this is a terrible idea,” he groans.

“Shhh,” Kai says. “I’m about to get to cross ‘blow a cuffed cop on the hood of his car’ off of my bucket list.”

“There’s no way that wa-- _ahh,”_ he gasps, back arching away from the hood underneath him at the sensation of her popping the head of his dick into her mouth. Her lips are glossy and sparkly and full wrapped around him, and she closes her eyes and hums with satisfaction as her tongue circles him like it’s a lollipop. He makes a strangled noise and throws his free arm over his eyes.

“You even _wash your dick,”_ she says with approval, coming briefly back up from sucking his dick. He peeks out from underneath his arm to squint at her pleasantly surprised grin. “I can taste it.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he says. “Your standards should be higher.”

“Ew, don’t talk like my brother,” she says, and then before he can respond to that her warm soft mouth is sinking down on his cock again, a steady unstoppable slide until she’s far too quickly at the base of him, leaving lipgloss kiss marks around the root of his dick, the head of his dick so far back in her throat she should be gagging, but she isn’t even breathing unsteadily through her nose.

Wash _has_ to toss his head back into the windshield and cry out at that, so much so suddenly, nevermind that they’re parked in the middle of the road during the zombie apocalypse. It’s the _zombie apocalypse,_ it’s fine, it’s a lawless time and public blowjobs with armed arrestees are the least questionable thing going on right now.

Kai slides with luxurious slowness that makes him curl his fingers and _keen_ off of his dick. “Feel free to thrust,” she breathes against the wet skin of the head of his cock, and then she’s going back down--up, down, never entirely letting the dick slip out of her mouth again and it feels _amazing_ and she said _feel free to thrust_ so he thrusts and its _heaven_ localized and concentrated at his crotch.

The problem with blowjobs, Wash has always thought, is that they make him desperately want to touch his partner back. Do something with the energy and heat building up inside of him, return all of the goodness they’re making him feel and show his appreciation. But she’s out of his reach, her hand taking care of herself as she expertly sucks and licks at him in a way that leaves his heartbeat thundering and his breathing shallow rapid pants. He does the best he can, carding his hand through her hair, but before he knows it his hand is a fist in her locks, clenched close to her scalp, and he’s tugging her down onto his cock as he thrusts up into her at the same time.

Kai moans like a porn star going for the smut Oscar, so he doesn’t try get a hold of himself and stop.

It’s so good, Kai shoots the zombie in the head before he even notices it approaching. She doesn’t even pause in bobbing her head.

He hears a body falling to the ground with an ungainly thump, and Kai _sucks,_ and she just killed a zombie mid sex and is _still sexing him,_ and no one on the entire damned planet would blame him for coming right that second with the gunshot still ringing in his ears.

It turns out that adrenaline drunk sex is the best kind of sex, no contest. Kai swallows his come down easily, slips off, and nuzzles into the crook of his thigh unselfconsciously as he reels. His dick touches her face but she doesn’t even seem to notice as she pants into his sweat slick skin. There are soft muffled wet sounds from between her thighs, and she groans and lightly bites him. His muscles twitch.

“Kai,” he says, his voice wrecked. Considering that she starts peppering his thigh and his limp cock with lipgloss kisses at that, he thinks she likes the sound of it. “Uncuff me.”

“Nuh uh,” she says, and laves a wet open mouthed kiss on the inside of his thigh.

“I wanna _touch_ you,” he whines.

“Yeah?” she says, and looks up at him with lust dark eyes beneath heavy fake lashes. “How?”

“Eat you out,” he says. “Until it’s dripping from my chin.”

She swears, softly, and closes her eyes and presses her forehead against him as she focuses on herself in earnest.

“I’d help finger you,” he goes on, “both of our fingers inside of you at once. You guiding me. My fingers are broader than yours, it’d be good.”

She moans, and it sounds so strange out in the open, not constrained by any walls surrounding them.

“I could fuck you, if you were patient enough. You on your hands and knees, or astride me because you _won’t fucking uncuff me--”_

She starts giggling, doesn’t stop touching herself. “You’re so cuuuute.”

“I’m not cute,” he says, “I’m a grown man with a badge and a gun and dog tags--”

“Did your voice just _crack?_ Oh my _god,_ you’re adorable.”

“I’ve got a pretty girl fingering herself on top of me. I’m blameless.”

She opens her eyes and slowly looks up at him, her long hair spread over his leg and the hood of the car, her smile crooked and heated. “Mm. Call me a pretty girl again.”

“Pretty,” he says immediately. “Beautiful. You look so soft and warm and you smell kind of nice, and I just want to sink into you--”

Kai lets loose a broken moan, her eyes falling shut, her spine curving and her brow furrowing like she’s confused. Orgasm.

Wash tears off the car mirror with a harsh tug so that it dangles from the single cuff on his wrist like a terrible bracelet, and promptly pries his gun out of her hand.

 _“Mine,”_ he hisses at her, and untangles himself from her before he clumsily falls onto the ground. His knees are still sex weak.

“What,” she says, dazed and uncomprehending as she comes down from her high. Wash stands up and dusts himself off, scans the surroundings for any zombies or witnesses. “You… you fucker!”

“Finders keepers,” he says. “Now come on, we’ve gotta go to the station.”

“Going to the cops is _not_ step one of my zombie apocalypse survival plan!” she snaps as she descends from the car.

“Well, what is step one of your zombie apocalypse plan, then?” he asks challengingly.

“Get laid,” she says. “So I guess it’s time to move onto step two. _Wing it.”_

God help him.


End file.
